


Uncle Duo, Justice, and the Road to Troy

by duointherain



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 16:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16814305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duointherain/pseuds/duointherain
Summary: Duo was just minding his own business!  Then there was a riot, something to do with Quatre's kids, and hopefully some other adventure.





	Uncle Duo, Justice, and the Road to Troy

Uncle Duo, Justice, and the Road to Troy 1/?  
by Duointherain

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing. 

Notes: So the prompt was to write an uncle.. like Jeff Goldblum, embarrassing and odd... I really tried. Maybe Q’s kids see Duo that way, but I almost always write Duo closer to his pov and he sees himself more ... if there are dinosaurs to run from, he probably made them. So I started this story from Q and Relena’s Pov.. so then this chapter happened. We’ll see where it goes. 

Other Notes: 1x2, QxR, goodness only knows. I haven’t written it yet so... we’ll see.

Duo was minding his own fucking business. That is usually how trouble starts. It’s not like Boston.Earth is exactly a hotbed violence. So maybe there had been a tea party a few hundred years before, but Heero was the historian. Duo played video games. It was cathartic, but rarely dangerous. 

They’d been married for nearly thirty years and put up with each other really well, overall. They had a nice private colony, more large ship, small town-sized in the L1 space. Though it was mobile. Sometimes they tootled over to other points and once even out to Mars. As it turned out, they were presently on Earth. Heero was there for research and Duo had just finished a very successful Gundanium Gears tournament. 

Both of them had opted into anti-aging genetic treatments and life was looking good. 

So there was Duo, faithfully minding his own fucking business, in a nice Boston game shop, sitting in the front, by the lovely window, sipping some hot chocolate and eating a turkey and cranberry sandwich, when several dozen people ran by. His head tilted, sandwich halfway to his mouth, an eyebrow arching. Half a dozen military kitted out cops ran after them. Duo made a tisking sound. Nothing brings back the war like angry cops in battle gear. 

“Sir,” the nice barista in the game cafe said worriedly. “If you could come away from the window, that would be great. We’re going to drop the trellis.” 

Sandwich in one hand, Duo pointed at the street, which now had a bit of some kind of gas in it. “What’s’that?”

“Well, sir, there was a rent control increase which led to a lot of evictions and there was a protest, an illegal protest and really, we need to get the trellis down before the gas gets in the store.” 

“Uh, okay,” Duo said, picking up his food, because you don’t waste food. “So it’s a riot?”

“Yes, sir, I’m so sorry. If you could just go into the inner gaming room. It’s secure.” 

And that’s when Ariel Winner ran by. She was way bigger than the fifteen-year-old that Duo remembered. Blonde and a little boxy, just like her father, she had a medic pack on her back and a red cross on her arm, but she was headed in the same direction as the angry cops. Where she was, her twin Raylin was not going to be far behind.

“Yeah. Oh yeah,” Duo muttered as he jugged the last of his hot chocolate, between wrapping his sandwich in a napkin to shove in his pocket. “I gotta go.”

“Oh no, sir! I know you’re not from here, but the authorities have been known to use lethal force.” 

Working on getting the sandwich into the side pocket of his cargo pants, Duo shrugged. “Nothing changes, I guess, not really.” Back to the door, he pointed with both fingers, kind of bouncing them as he went, “Charge those three games to my account, ship’em. I’ll probably survive the day!”

Once outside, he regretted the bit of tear gas. That was something one just never developed a taste for. He touched his marble and found himself shouting. “Heero! Better warm up our transport! Q’s daughter just ran into a riot with a medic pack on!”

“What? There’s a riot? Are you in a riot?”

“Not yet,” Duo said, running in the direction that Ariel had gone. “Well, kinda. Oh shit!”

<><>

“Duo?” Heero’s eyes narrowed and he grunted in frustration. With his left hand, he brought up a screen with news footage. Rent control? He rubbed his eyes, which suddenly burned. 

Multitasking, he sent a message to Quatre, asking about the whereabouts of his children. He also laid in flight plans, woke the engines, and planned extraction contingencies. 

From the comfort of his office in their transport ship, he watched the coverage, gathering all the footage he could. He also released a dozen very small drones of his own. 

“Duo.” 

“Yeah,” Duo said, sounding slightly out of breath, which was worrisome. Duo was in reasonably good health. They kept their gravity pretty close to Earth standard, but Earth was still a little bit more than either of them were used too. Not enough to be bothersome normally. Riots were, by definition, not really normal. 

“I have a drone on Raylan’s location, but I can’t find you.” 

“Sent me his location,” Duo said, right before metal hit metal. “I’m at uh... 9th and uh... Oak. Do all cities... shit! Stop or I’m gonna hit you back! Fucker.. have oak streets?”

In under a minute, Heero had one of his little drones at 9th and Oak. It was packed with people. Protestors and counter-protestors, and a guy twice Duo’s size with a metal baseball bat kept putting dents in the car at Duo’s back. 

It was quite illegal to have armed drones in Earth’s atmosphere.

Heero’s little drone dropped to about a half a meter from the guy’s shoulder, put a couple seconds of laser etching on the back of the hand with the baseball bat, before zipping back up and out of reach. The guy bellowed. Duo relieved him of the bat as he was dropping it anyway and scrambled up onto the top of the car. 

“You get the girl. I’ll get the boy,” Heero said. “Be on deck in an hour.”

“Got’cha,” Duo said, jumping back into the fray. 

Duo’s marble searched through contacts, his, and anyone’s he could get into, social media, old emails from Q, public databases, until he found Ariel’s marble code. Then he forced it out of do not disturb mode. That was also illegal. 

“Hey,” he said cheefully. 

“Uncle... Duo...” she said, “No, don’t move yet. Just give it a chance to set. Uncle Duo! I can’t talk right now. I’m kind of busy.”

“Guess where I am,” he said, illegally holding the connection open.

“Uh, I really got to go,” she said, the roar of the riot moving around her. 

“Yer no fun,” Duo complained as he swung his bat into the baton of the policeman about hit Ariel across the shoulders. “Didn’t yer parents teach you not to hit medics!?”

The riot made room for them, spreading away as if Duo and the cop were toxic. 

With full face gear and ballistic armor on, the cop focused on Duo who was equipped with hoodie, jeans, and a baseball bat. “Then don’t give aid to the enemy!” 

“This ain’t a war, asshole,” Duo spat. “This a domestic dispute and I’m the fucking good samaritan neighbor!” 

“You’re an unprosecuted terrorist! I know who you are! You’re Duo Maxwell!”   
“Definitely am,” Duo said, in a singsongy voice, baseball bat held in both hands. “I’m fifty-two and I’m still gonna kick yer ass! It ain’t peace if it ain’t fair!”

It wasn’t much of a monologue, but some enterprising journalist got it recorded and up on all the screens. Duo was still speaking when the city came to terms and put more favorable rent controls back in place. The tone changed, rippling out from around Duo and the cop, protestors and counter-protestors rounding on the cop. This one poor angry cop suddenly had a hundred angry people around him. 

The news coverage had shifted to the crowd, so at least they missed when Duo tripped on his shoelace, legitimately just tripped, falling over towards the poor cop, whose instincts kicked in and he caught him before he fell, even though Duo’s face smacked hard into the armored breastplate he was wearing. 

Much more compliant now, the crowd parted for a normal police car. The chief of police himself got out, dusted Duo off and shoved him towards the car, with just enough time for Duo to grab onto Ariel and drag her along. 

Without ceremony, they were deposited at the spaceport. It was strenuously suggested that New Haven Connecticut might be a much better location to visit in the future. Heero, Raylin, and Heero’s drones showed up within the hour. 

And that’s how Heero and Duo basically abducted Quatre and Relena’s kids from Earth. 

Home.Prime.L4

The dining room doors opened as Quatre entered. A story and a half tall, done in white and gold like something a French nobleman would have disclaimed to revolutionaries, he wandered in wearing dusty khakis and a pink turtleneck. A touch of silver fanned through blond curls, back from his temples. He was solidly ignoring the repeated messages from his personal assistant. 

He was retired. It was Saturday morning. He was having none of this nonsense. 

Relena, who was not retired, and likely never would be, sat at the head of the table. Hair drawn up into a neat bun, her expression softened as she looked up at her husband. “Quatre.” The word was slow, hazy in blue and golden light like an impressionist painting. “Was it a good morning?”

“It was,” he said, brightening, less Monet and more post-Impressionism Van Gogh in golds and blues. “I do believe I’ve almost found a splendid find. I held off work until this afternoon, so that you could join us!” 

“Really?” she said, amused, smiling, one hand closing down her screen to the side, as if whatever she’d been working on just didn’t merit her attention anymore. “Do you think it’s something really significant?”

“It is Troy,” Quatre said, elbows on the table, sandy brown dust settling on the table like chalk outline. Elegant fingers waved off his own disclaimers, almost. “I know it’s a replica, but it’s a perfect replica. It would be sacrilege to excavate the real one on Earth this intensely! You really must come this afternoon!”

“Of course, I will,” she said, a finger drawing the dust down his nose. “Perhaps we can lay a blanket in the visitor’s center, open a bottle of wine.”

“You will always be my Helen,” Quatre said, drawing her fingertips to his lips, blue eyes focused on her. “I will steal you from the world every chance I get.”

“Always?” She asked, leaning closer, lips parting just a little. 

“Absolutely.” He leaned closer, a hand reaching for her cheek, when her data access point started vibrating hard enough to actually shake the end of their solid oak twenty-foot-long table. 

They stared at the holographic screen, the lines blurring as it shook. “Malware,” Quatre asked. It wasn’t keyed to his eyes, so he couldn’t see it clearly anyway.

“Incoming call,” Relena said, confused. “It’s just a work point. It doesn’t take calls.” 

“Don’t touch it,” Quatre said with full authority as the head of the house and the owner of nearly a quarter of the properties at the 4th La Grange Point. 

Then she touched it. 

Duo popped up, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a grin. “Hey! We miss you guys!”

Relena’s smile was genuine, but maternal in a reluctant Wendy to the Lost Boys kind of way. “Are you coming to visit? Why didn’t you call us like....”

“Like normal people,” Duo asked, making a face. He had on sunglasses, but a bit of yellow and purple showed below them anyway. “I did. No callbacks for eleven hours and forty-three minutes. I got impatient. Your assistant said she’d give you the message.”

“Yes, of course,” Quatre said, leaning on the back of Relena’s chair, his hands gently resting on her shoulders. “Entirely my fault. I haven’t checked anything in days. I’m on a vacation! I’ve got a replica of Troy that I’m excavating! You and Heero should come help me!” 

Quatre couldn’t see the look on Relena’s face, so politely horrified. It’s not like she didn’t have grounds. There had been some exploding fireworks at her wedding reception, a near drunken orgy at Duo and Heero’s, a murder investigation where Duo was completely exonerated, a couple of experiments in medical school that had gone spectacularly wrong, and even though Duo had delivered her twins, if they all hadn’t been out galavanting around on a small ski resort colony, she would have made it home to deliver in a proper hospital with proper painkillers, and she still disputed that that made him godfather to her twins. The twins were sixteen now and respectfully enrolled at a preparatory academy in Switzerland, on Earth. It wasn’t like Duo and Heero had gone to medical school and become respectable either. Duo didn’t look like he’d aged a day. He looked little older than her twins. There were technologies that would do that, but they weren’t respectable by far. 

She could hear the joy and energy in her husband’s voice though. He had many people as companions, but very few friends, very few equals. Her smile softened, “Yes! Duo, my dear, you should come and help Quatre dig up Troy. Do stay a little while this time! You know there’s always a place for you both here!” 

“‘Lena, you’re always so kind. We’re bringing you couple gifts too! But I want you to bear in mind that.. you know.. totally not my fault, not Heero’s either. I was just minding my own business! I won the tournament too! It was completely awesome, well until the riot.”

“What are you talking about,” Quatre said. 

Duo held up both hands, grand gesture, chin lifted. “Now I just want to make sure, but if we were to say have found your kids not on the college campus, but say in a riot as participants, you’d uh, want us to bring them home, right?”

“My twins,” Relena said sternly, leaning forward a bit, her blue eyes the steel eyes that ruled the Earthsphere. “are 17. They are safely on Harvard’s campus. They have minders. They’re still children.” 

Duo’s grin was ear-to-ear and stiff.

“Well, shit.” Quatre said softly.


End file.
